Author: Josh

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Actual conversation with our next door neighbor

“If you ever throw a FUDGING flashlight at my FUDGING cat again, I will FUDGING kill you.”

My wife is FUDGING awesome!

So… I had to play diplomat and introduce ourselves to the next door neighbor, who is renting the house from the owners, who we actually know and like.  The conversation went something like this:

“Hey, let’s bury the hatchet (otherwise my wife will FUDGING kill you).  We’re long-since overdue in introducing ourselves and would like to be friendly”.

Our effort was well received and the cat is safe right now.  I think.

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Bachelorness

Elise, Maly, John, Christine, Jack and Grayson all drove to Irving on Friday, stayed with Christine’s parents that night and then drove up to Oklahoma on Saturday. John, Christine and the boys went to OK City for Christine’s Grandma’s 95th birthday and Elise and Maly went to Okeene to visit Elise’s Grandma as well as a fraction of the Boeckman uncle, aunts and cousins. Yours truly stayed here in Austin and endulged in some “me” time.

On Friday I went out with some coworkers for drinks at the bar at the Stephen F. Austin Intercontinental Hotel. I got home around 8 and played Scarface on the Xbox. Scarface isn’t really a game you should play if you have a wife sitting in the same room who might make note that every other word said is, “f#*k” or “cockaroacha”. Or a game you should play if you have an 10-month-old daughter whose first words, if exposed to said game, might be, “Tsay ello do my leedle fren!!!”

On Saturday I slept in really late. I woke up and decided it was time to treat the deck with water sealant. The last time I did that, I got really high. And then we had to drive to the hospital to have a baby. Ugghh.

This time I wore a mask but still managed to unintentionally get a little stoned. It’s hard to spray water sealant up without some of it coming down.

A trip back to the ol’ HoPot and another gallon of water sealant and the job was done. And then it was back to making coke deals as Tony Montana on the Xbox for the rest of the night.

On Sunday I got my haircut, fertilized the flowerbeds and garden, watered the lawn, cooked a Thai basil soup and then sold drugs as Tony Montana on the Xbox.

I rushed home from work on Monday in time to meet Elise and Maly after returning home from their trip to Oklahoma. I gave Maly a bath and played with her for a while before it was time for her to go to bed.

I played with Maly for an hour on Tuesday morning before my girls were off again. Elise drove to Mom’s house to drop Maly off so she could go on a photo shoot with Marc.

Elise and Maly and supposed to come either tomorrow or Friday. In the meantime, I’ve been building my empire, buying and selling cocaine, driving expensive cars and saying cockaroacha by night all while missing my girls.

Mom sent this photo today of Maly helping in the courtyard. Maly’s starting to stand on her own. I miss my little Sugar.

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Yeah, it’s really big

My Lacie d2 Big Disk Extreme was delivered yesterday. 1TB. That’s 1,000GB. This thing is awesome. I can store and backup EVERYTHING. I don’t even think anymore. When a thought comes to me, I don’t even bother processing it, I just throw it at this harddrive and am done with it.

What’s funny though is that I’ll bet it won’t take too long to fill it up with photos and videos.

What’s even more funny is that I’ll bet by Christmas we will be seeing 1TB thumbdrives.

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Check your yarbles at the door

I bought tickets to The Lion King as a Christmas present for Elise this past year. She’s really wanted to see this production for years and made sure to let me know as much in November. So I made sure to sell my left kidney so she and I could see this magnificent Broadway show while it was being performed in Austin.

Many of my friends have seen The Lion King and I was told that I would love it. I knew Elise would love it as she likes things like plays, flowers, talking about her feelings, breakfast foods and Grey’s Anatomy.

The night started out with something in the world of married folks we like to call “not communicating effectively”. Allow me to verbally paint the picture for you:

The male role: [While scratching his groinal region] “We need to leave at 7:00 p.m. to get there on time.”

The female role: 7:35 p.m. and we’re rushing out of the house late because: makeup had to be applied, the baby had to be nursed, earrings had to triple-checked, husband had to be ostracized because he’s wearing jeans, wife’s blouse had to be ironed, all the while said husband is also being yelled at for not mentioning the fact that the tickets clearly indicate that there will be no late seating. In black and white, plain English the ticket reads, “Those who arrive late will be denied entry and be forced to sit on the steps of the Bass Concert Hall where the husband will be subjected to discussing what happened on last week’s episode of Grey’s Anatomy. Or his wife’s feelings on breakfast foods. Whichever is deemed by the wife to be more painstaking.

We were late for the show. I won’t name names here but someone had to to triple-check her earrings and hence didn’t eat dinner which meant the husband had to stop at Jack in the Box for a Jumbo Jack (excellent breakfast food, by the way) and we arrived somewhere remotely near the University of Texas campus at 8 p.m., which was when the show started. It was about at this point at which the tears started falling. I really didn’t want to spend two hours and forty minutes having “hakuna matata” beat into my skull. But the real tears were from my wife, who really wanted to see this show. We didn’t have $8 cash to pay to park in the parking garage (see wife needs Jumbo Jack meal above) so I pleaded with the gatekeeper to let me in and allow me to walk to the office to pay for a parking ticket with the credit card.

Elise had dressed up so beautifully for the evening and really wanted to see this performance and have a nice date with her loving husband. I was still in the dog house for “not communicating” that we had to be there on time. Just after we parked I gave her her ticket and told her to go to the show without me so she could secure our seats. I told her I would get into the theatre if it meant I had to discuss “my feelings” or last week’s episode of Grey’s Anatomy with the box office attendee.

The University of Texas is nestled on 40 acres. I think I walked the circumference of 41+ acres while trying to find the Bass Concert Hall. I stopped and talked to two foreign exchange students who, in hindsight, clealy indicated that the Bass Concert Hall was, “over there”, but for whatever reason, I thought “over there” was actually, “over in that other direction.”

I finally found the Bass Concert Hall and was greeted by Elise. We found out that they did in fact allowed late seating. We had to wait a couple minutes for Scene I to end so an usher could show us our seats. While your humble narrator was trekking the campus, Elise was able to watch the performance on a television monitor in the lobby.

I sat there for two and half hours and tried to look at my own eyebrows while humans pranced around the stage in costumes that would make for great Gwar concert while singing “hakuna matata”. But I also held my wife’s hand because it was something that she wanted to do and that was the most important thing for me.

Next time, we’re going to see World Combat League.

And we won’t be late.

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Mac guy

I sold my PC today. It had been on craigslist for a month or so and a college kid from San Marcos drove to our house this afternoon to pick it up. He told me he plans on adding an external 100GB hard drive and turning it into a DVR. Now my old computer will get some use. It was hard letting it go because my parents gave me the pieces in which to build that computer a couple years ago as a Christmas present. I severed ties and am now, officially, a Mac guy. I don’t “own” an Windows PC any longer. Elise has her HP laptop (which I don’t touch unless I have to fix something for her) and I have a Dell Latitude laptop that I’ve, on numerous occassions, wanted to give some serious latitude to — as in launching through the 8th floor window of the office. We’re supposed to get Macbooks for our work computers in a couple months and until then, I’m not attaching myself to my work computer any more than I absolutely have to.

In the meantime, my Mom emailed me last night to tell me that she’s having to ship her brand new Hewlett Packard desktop with Windows Vista © Doesn’tCrashAsMuch Premium computer back to HP because it, errr, crashed.

And I guess it should go here where I make mention that I’ve seen a 102.72% return on my initial investment in Apple stock five years ago after I realized that Apple is a bad ass company upon buying my first iPod.

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Monthly Maly Letter: Month ten

Dear Maly,

You turned ten-months-old today. You’re now into the double digits. Just from looking at pictures of you, it’s amazing to see how much you’ve changed and grown in just a month. You’re such a pretty girl and every moment I spend with you makes me just that much prouder of you. It’s undeniable that you’re my child due to your outward appearance, but sometimes I think you’re just too cute to be from my gene pool. Your hair is getting so long and it’s a gorgeous straw-colored blonde. We thought your eyes would have decided by now if they were going to change to either brown or blue. It’s looking like they’re going to stay brue. Or blown. Or stone. You have a very beautiful eye color. Very unique – just like you.

You reached many milestones this month. You cut your first two teeth in late January. They’re your bottom front teeth and as each day passes they grow bigger and bigger. Gone are the days of your empty toothless smile. You have choppers now. I’m anticipating the day when your mom tells me that you bit her while nursing.

Since you have teeth now, we’ve let you start eating solid foods that you can pick up with your hands and put into your mouth yourself. We started you with these little star shaped Gerber “Puffs”. It wasn’t but a few days after that when we started letting you try all kinds of new finger foods. You now eat green beans, ground turkey, potatoes, asparagus, mozzarella, grapes, mango. It’s so much fun to watch you eat on your own. You do an awesome job of feeding yourself and there isn’t a food yet that we’ve found that you don’t like.

Except little pieces of broken screwdriver handles.

Your Grandma was here for my birthday a couple of weeks ago and while you were crawling around on the kitchen floor, you found a little tiny piece of a screwdriver handle. You don’t ordinarily put random objects into your mouth so I watched you as you crawled around on the floor, toting your little piece of broken plastic, sitting yourself up occasionally to say, “oooh oooh ooooh oooh” as you held your treasure in your hand in front of you. I turned my attention to something else in the kitchen and turned and looked down as you started to crawl away and made a wretched gagging sound and a pool of drool spilled onto the tile in front of you. I watched you for a second to make sure that you were okay. You sat there on all fours silent and not moving. With Super Sonic Daddy Hearing I then heard you silently gasp for air as the piece of plastic had lodged in your throat. I ran over to you, scooped you up, held you face down, horizontal to the ground and slapped you hard enough on the back that, if you weren’t choking, would have warranted a visit from Child Protective Services.

The piece of plastic came out. You were scared from the whole ordeal. I was scared, too. After I held you, kissed you, told you it was going to be okay, you stopped crying. I put you in your high chair as your mom started getting your lunch ready. I stood there next to you and ran my fingers through your hair. Your Grandma asked me, “You’re worried about her, aren’t you?” to which I lied and said, “Nah…” Your Grandma looked at me and said, “You’re a good dad.”

I can’t put into words how much you mean to me. I try very hard to be a good Dad for you. The love I have for you is something that only a parent knows; only my love is a gazillion times more.

Yesterday was your first Valentine’s Day. I bought you a fancy pink dress with flowers sewn into it. Your mom was shocked that I bought something so “girly”. I also got you a Valentine’s Day card. Your mom went to Double Daves last night to pick up our dinner and while she was out I wrote a message to you in your card. You sat in your high chair and ate asparagus and ground turkey as I wrote to you. I don’t know why, but I got teary eyed at that moment. I guess I was reveling in how happy I am to be your dad. I hope that one day when you’re much older, over the phase where you hate me (sometimes referred to as the “teens”), and possibly even married and have a daughter of your own that you’ll read that card and know that I tried my best to be the best dad that I could.

I love you, Sugar.

Love,

Daddy

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Free vehicle investment advice

I bought my neighbor’s 1993 Toyota pickup truck three years ago with 80,000 miles on it for $2,000.

I washed and waxed the truck yesterday.  I put “For Sale” on it this evening at 7 p.m.  The truck was sold at 9 p.m. with 151,000 miles on it for $1,900.  In my book, that’s an awesome sale.  I’m happy that I got good money for my little truck but I’m kind of sad because of all of my vehicles, that was a damn good truck and probably my favorite.  I’m going to miss it.

Now the gauntlet has been dropped… I’m in vehicle selling mode.  Next on my hit parade is Elise’s Jeep.  I think some tears will fall after that sale.

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How to explain why you downloaded a virus onto your work computer

I was doing some research at the office today on the technologies that the company employs.  I wanted to see if I could crack our system.  I figured if I could exploit a vulnerability and bring it to the attention to the organization, I would be helping the company to create an even more secure product for our customers and I would be applauded, praised and handed large sums of cash, stock options and gummi bears.

So I did what any other eager, semi-new employee would do.  I downloaded a progam that would aid me in my research.  Upon downloading the zipped binaries of said program, a window popped up with a bright red Trend Micro OfficeScan banner at the top.  I immediately knew that I’d screwed up because a pop up window with a red banner screams, “You’re an Idiot and because you did this at work, we’re taking away your stapler!”   Which is funny in and of itself because, despite multiple requests for one, I don’t even have a stapler.  HA!

I’ve dealt with computer virus issues, malware, hijackware, spyware and even tupperware many, many times in the past.  For most of us the anti-virus program window pops up and says, “Hey, Slingblade, put down the biskits ‘n’ musturd and tell me that you don’t REALLY want to download this!” and then we all click the quarantine or delete button and go about our day scouring the web for photos of Britney Spears exiting a vehicle.

Instead of asking me if I wanted to quarantine or delete the virus, I was told that the system has notified our Senior Systems Administrator and he will be at my desk momentarily to kick me in the yarbles.

So I quickly decided that I needed to make my case.  I decided that it would be best if I said, in my best Slingblade impersonation, something that I’ve never thought would ever, ever pass my lips:

“You see, it started when I began my research on MD5 cryptography and rainbow tables which are, as Britney Spears recently noted, a refinement of an algorithm that uses the inversion of hashes by looking up precomputed hash chains whereas each table depends on the hash function and the reduce function used.”

Much to my surprise, our Senior Systems Administrator didn’t come stomping over to my desk.

So I decided to leave work early.

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Thirty-one

Friday was my thirty-first birthday.  I was reminded of this on Friday morning when Elise woke me up by kissing me on the cheek and saying, “Happy birthday!”

It was a regular work day and at 2:51 I found myself on the phone with a client in a conference room.  2:51 was when I was born.

January 26th is a very important day as it the birthday of many other very important people.  For example, Frankie Rayder, apparently a faithful patriot, also turned 31 on Friday.  Film critic Gene Siskel was born on this day.  Bob Uecker and Paul Newman share the day with me.  Ellen DeGeneres, pro-arm wrestler and primary reason why laundry doesn’t get done in our house was also born on the 26th.  And my favorite, Eddie Van Halen.  Since I was ten-years-old I’ve made it a tradition to listen to Van Halen on my birthday.

I hurried home from work on Friday evening.  Mom had come up to spend the weekend with us and she and Elise were making dinner in the kitchen.  After dinner Elise and I drove downtown to see Dave Barry at the Paramount Theater. Dave was funny enough to keep a smile on my face for an hour and a half but Elise and I both left with a feeling that there was something to be desired.

We drove home while listening to Van Halen on the iPod.  When we got home, I opened presents.  Mom got me a Magic Bullet blender that I’m hoping I won’t destroy the first time I use it.  Elise got me Hudson on the Bend’s second cookbook, “Fired Up”, which, I’m hoping, will inspire me to cook again.

After presents we engaged ourselves in one of my favorite conversation pieces: religion.  I’m pretty sure I did a fantastic job of portraying myself as Marilyn Manson to my Mom and wife and I’m almost certain I heard Maly wake up and from her room snicker and say, “Dude, you’re sooo going to hell.”

On Saturday Elise textured our bathroom walls.  Earlier this month we experienced to great joys of stripping wall paper.  If you’re ever in the position where you have to either strip wall paper or play Russian Roulette with a guy named Twitch, choose the latter.

Saturday night we had dinner with our friends at what used to be the Y Bar and Grill in Oak Hill which is now Nunzia’s at the Y which we will probably NEVER patronize again.  We used to love going to the Y which became Nunzia’s, to our dismay on Friday.  Albeit our party was twelve-top but I don’t like 3-hour dinners.  Service was sub par.  They ran out of a wine we all liked.  After we ordered entrees it was brought to our attention that they’d run out of swordfish.  Ten minutes later we were told they’d ran out of halibut.  We were at the restaurant at 6 p.m. and one of the first tables there for dinner service.  The chefs should have a) taken inventory and stocked accordingly for Saturday dinner and b) informed the waitstaff of said inventory.  When we did finally eat, nobody mentioned their meal.  I wanted my friends and family to enjoy our time together but I really wanted them to enjoy their meals.  Nunzia’s didn’t pull it together for me.   I had a great time with everyone last night but I’m pissed at the restaurant.  I want to fire people.

We came home after dinner and put Maly to sleep.  Victor came over for a nightcap and helped me figure out the I-Cat that Jack gave me for my birthday.

After an hour or so Victor left, we all went to bed and I resolved to the fact that I’m now a thirty-something.

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The tongue depressor

I was in the elevator this afternoon with two coworkers. The other two, both bachelors, were having a conversation about their friends who are parents. The gist of the conversation was, “Once you become a parent, you live, eat and breathe your children.” They went on to reflect on their respective social lives and how children have dramatically effected their friends. My understanding of the conversation was that neither of them were ready to contemplate having children. It was then that I chimed in and said, “I have a nine-month-old daughter.” One stated, “So, you know what it’s like!” To which I responded, “Yep.” And then went on to say something that I heard from Janeen years ago. “…And I couldn’t imagine life otherwise.”

On Saturday Elise went to brunch with her girlfriends and they all worked on baby books. Maly and I hung out most of the day. I did something to make Maly laugh and I saw what looked like a tooth poking out from her lower front gums. I put my finger in her mouth and, sure enough, she had cut her first tooth. I picked her up and we ran around the house while I gleefully celebrated a tooth. I was so proud at that moment and Maly giggled as I ran and her hair blew back. Even though she’s not consciously responsible for this milestone, I was so proud of her. A tooth meant that she can start eating real solid food. During lunch I started having visions of my daughter wanting to help me cook. The wheel starting turning and I smiled as I thought about my baby growing up.

This morning we took Maly for her nine month check-up. She passed with flying colors and I was really proud of that as I hadn’t been to a Maly check-up in six months. I was so proud that I took the tongue depressor that the physician’s assistant used with Maly. I kept it in my pocket today and clutched with my left hand while in the elevator this afternoon as I listened to my coworkers’ conversation.

And it’s so very true… I wouldn’t have it any other way. I couldn’t imagine life otherwise. Maly means the world to me.

And I’m keeping that tongue depressor.

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Long weekend and real Winter weather

On Friday Elise, Maly and I went out for fried catfish at the Manchaca Fire Hall Kitchen. The atmosphere was a lot of fun and Maly was able to watch a live Bluegrass band. The food: good but not as good as the catfish at Crossroads in Cat Spring, but still a fun family place we might find ourselves at on Friday nights in the future.

On Saturday Elise went to our neighbors house to work on Maly’s baby book. Maly and I we able to spend some quality time together. One of those quality moments involved her falling and whacking her cheek on the corner of my filing cabinet. That rendered a lot of tears and a nice purple bruise on her cheek. Later in the day she decided to try a backflip off of my office chair. That rendered me pacing about the house while clutching my daughter in my arms and repeating, “I’m sorry, baby. Daddy didn’t meant to drop you on your head.” Luckily both incidents were very minor.

On Sunday we finally bought chairs for our kitchen table. For three years we had been using Elise’s old director chairs from her college days and two lawn chairs. It was one of my goals after I found gainful employment to buy chairs for our kitchen table as sort of a way to honor my Dad. Our kitchen table was my Dad’s before he and Mom met. So the table is going on 40 years old and I obviously wanted to keep it and hopefully pass it down.

Monday was MLK Day and we did just what the late Reverend would have wanted us to do: we went to Home Depot. The weather started getting bad outside. Many roads and bridges were iced over and the temperature was dropping. While at the HoPot we picked out tile for Maly’s bathroom and shopped light fixtures for the breakfast nook. We drove across the street to World Market for wine, kitchen seat cushions and those really friggin’ good rosemary, olive oil and sea salt potato chips.

This morning we woke up to freezing temperatures outside, frozen roads and sleet. And then there was a thud. And then there was crying. I learned something very interesting this morning. My wife can run REALLY fast.

Maly fell out of her crib. It was a heartbreaking moment. The silver lining: she was sitting up on the floor when Elise ran in to pick her up. Proportionately speaking, I would venture to guess that Maly falling out of her crib would be like me toppling from 12 feet. We don’t know how or on what she landed, but she was sitting when we got to her room. She cried a very distinct “I’m really hurt” cry – one that we’d never heard before. We were really scared but, again, she was okay.

So we all watched to news to see what was happening with the weather and if I could go to work. The weather became worse as they day progress. Freezing temperatures, rain, freezing rain, sleet and snow!

I’m really thankful to have had the extra time to spend with Maly.  We’ve had a lot of fun (sans all of the head injuries).

The weather is still nasty outside so we’ll just stay in and play.

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Monthly Maly Letter: Month nine

Dear Maly,

You turned nine-months-old today. Nine months is a huge number in my mind. Nine months is how long you lived inside of your Mom. Nine months of pure bliss in learning about pregnancy, labor and delivery and your Mom and me bonding even closer than than the day that we swore among family and friends that we would be together forever. Prior to that, the concept of “my daughter” and who you’ve actually turned out to be is beyond comprehension. If someone where to ask me, “Explain what it’s like to be a Dad.” I would answer that question with a question and ask, “Have you met my baby?” And you would do the rest of the talking. You would point and give a huge smile with your toothless grin which would fill the room happiness and immediately make everyone realize that life really is good. You’re just that kind of person.

Our favorite thing to do now is play after I’ve given you a bath. I set you down on the bed with your towel still wrapped around you and our game begins. After you’re mostly dry, I throw whatever part of the towel that isn’t wrapped around your body over your head and then I sneak my head up behind yours and whisper, “Where’s Maly? Where’s Maly?” And you start giggling and try to start crawling away with the towel still covering your face. I keep my head next to yours and keep whispering into your ear, “Where’s Maly?” You always give in and lie on your stomach and pull your face under your arm and giggle, all the while knowing that I’ll always be there, right behind you.

We’ve also created a new game this month that I like to call the “Suicide Game”. After you’ve dried off, I take towel off and let your crawl around the bed. It’s then that I start saying, “I’m gonna get you!!” You start laughing and crawling to the opposite side of the bed. I crawl on the floor beside the bed in the direction in which you’re heading. You laugh uncontrollably as you crawl while watch my head traveling to the same side of the bed as you. The bad habit we’ve established is that you don’t stop when you get to the edge of the bed. Well, you do stop for a moment, but I think you wait until I get there before you take your “leap of faith”. You took your first leap on accident and luckily I was there to catch one of your legs and keep you from landing head-first onto the bedroom floor. Now you always assume that I’m going to catch your legs and swing you upside down and make you giggle. It’s a bad habit that we’ve gotten ourselves into but it’s A LOT of fun. Just don’t tell your Mom. I hope that when I’m really old and you have to take care of me that you’ll swing me around by the ankles and make fart noises on my stomach when I go to launch myself off of your bed!

Speaking of habits. It’s been a few months since you grew out of your baby bathtub that I used to bathe you in. When I first starting bathing you in the big tub, I was trying to find the way in which it was most convenient for me to bathe you. I decided to kick off my flip flops and sit on the edge of the tub with my feet in the water with you. Now that the weather is getting colder, I have to take off my shoes, socks and roll up my jeans in order to partially get in the tub with you. I don’t know what age you’ll be when you can take baths by yourself but if you find yourself at 13-years-old and I’m walking to the bathroom with you while wearing capri pants and no shoes, you might want to say, “Hey Dad, I’ve got it figured out now. And you really shouldn’t be wearing my capri pants.”

Your Grandpa B. gave me a set of iPod speakers for Christmas this year. I decided to put them in your bathroom so we could listen to music while I give you a bath. We always listen 70’s country music because it reminds me of my Dad. We like to listen to Tom T. Hall, Crystal Gayle, Waylon Jennings, Freddie Fender, Charlie Pride, Willy Nelson and the rest. I try to sing to you and I think I do a pretty good job considering the bathroom’s acoustics. You don’t complain so I guess we have a pretty good time. I look forward to bath days because you and I have time to play and you really like the water. When you’re old enough, I’m thinking that I’ll buy a boat, just like my Dad did and you can learn to water ski and fish.

You had your first Christmas this year. Again you played the role of my little angel. I don’t know if I could’ve made it through the day without an emotional breakdown had you not been there with me. You sat in my lap the entire time while we all opened presents. I gave your Grandma a card that told her how thankful I was to have had the Dad that I had. I also told her that I was proud and thankful for her and my Dad. I watched her open the card and read it as I was clutching you in my lap. Your Grandma and I made eye contact long enough to share a heartfelt thought of missing your Grandpa. I was really sad at that point and wished that your Grandpa could have been there to kiss you and say, “Merry Christmas, Sugar!”

I gave your Mom a card that I wrote by hand. On it was a poem from the card that Grandpa gave to Grandma the year before he died. It was an emotional day for me but I’m glad that I had you there with me to help me through it. I think you really helped your Grandma too.

You thoroughly enjoyed your first Christmas. You got all kind of fun presents and even better, wrapping paper and bows! I’m glad you were able to spend your first Christmas in Des Moines with your family. I’m also glad that you were born into a family that loves each other so much.

Other parents have told me that they can’t imagine life without their children. You’ve made me realize how true that is. There are no words to describe the joy that you’ve brought to me. If I’ve had a bad day, you make all of the bad disappear the moment I hold you in my arms. For being such a little person, you sure have a lot of power.

You never cease to amaze me. You’ve taught yourself to crawl almost fast enough to keep up with me as I walk about the house. You pull yourself up onto your feet by using my legs, pat the back of my knees and say, “Huuuuh!! Huuuuhhh!!” when you want me to pick you up. You point and smile at strangers. You love to giggle as you look at yourself in the mirror.

You’re very outgoing but very bashful at the same time. You smile and point at me and then turn your head ever so slightly while pulling your shoulders up to your ears while you watch me out of the corner of your eye and giggle and snort.

Sometimes we’ll look at each other from across the room and we’ll both just start laughing. We have an amazing bond that means the world to me.

It’s true: I can’t imagine life without you. You make me smile and laugh in ways that I never knew were possible. I love and cherish every moment that I have with you. And every moment that I have with you is the best moment of my life.

I love you, Sugar!

Love,

Daddy